


Evenly Matched

by NaoCarolina



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Evil Cullen, F/M, Fucking, My First Fanfic, Of course!, Plot holes?, Smut, but make it cool., but make it hot., canon destroying, please be kind to me, probably!, sexy Cullen as well!, that’s right
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:34:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24561673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NaoCarolina/pseuds/NaoCarolina
Summary: This idea came from that early conversation between Mage Trevelyan and Cullen, where she asks if he ‘trusts’ her. I thought it would be fun to see what happened if Cullen’s mistrust went a little deeper, if he was a little darker and if he acted on instinct a bit more than his character in the game - after all, shame tends to breed something terrible in men.
Relationships: Cullen Rutherford/Female Trevelyan
Comments: 4
Kudos: 34





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for plot holes or grammar trouble. Sorry for canon crushing? Sorry for the little prelude, but I would rather get right to the action. I haven’t done this before. I’m going to post all the chapters I think. Later chapter will have sex, slightly non-con, but it’s good. Also I switch between Cullen and Trev... welp... here goes nothing.

‘You don’t trust me, do you Commander?’

They stood across from each other as if they were about to engage in a duel. Cullen noted carefully that Trevelyan did not have her staff, not that she needed it.

He peered at her for some time, gripping the hilt of his sword. No. He didn’t trust her.

———

‘Then maybe we don’t need some ex-Templar-addict with his small minded suspicions and pre-designed ideas on who to trust.’ She spat, but she wasn’t done, moving a step towards him, squinting with the effort of her rage, ‘You’re nothing without that armour, without the vial. A sad, pathetic man with no right to advise and no right to command!’ Suddenly Cullen broke free of his frozen position and with an angry bellow thundered towards the inquisitor. Before she could react, Cullen had rammed her against the desk. She exhaled out of surprise and pain, before responding in kind, pushing back with untapped force. The next moment the pair were against the stone wall opposite. Cullen’s head had bashed against it, and a combination of concussion and pure adrenaline made his eyes roll back for a second. His mind swirled in utter red mist, the lyrium withdrawal beating on him with each squeeze of every muscle. With his hands now on her shoulders, he spun them both around, shoving her up against the wall. He pressed against her, pinning her as hard as he could. Trevelyan growled and raised a hand. Electro-energy gathered in her palm like a tiny storm. She was almost ready to release it when Cullen snatched her wrist tightly and rammed it into the stone provoking another squeal of pain from her. Then there was silence. A few moments of deadlock. They stood, breathing at each other like two wounded beasts. Cullen blinked first, the enormity of what he had just done was slowly sinking in, but everything was hazy for now. Some distant memory, watery, infantile was paddling just below the surface of his consciousness. What was that? When he focussed his gaze again, their eyes met. He was surprised to read her, to see that her response wasn’t just pure anger and vitriol as it was just moments before. The inquisitor’s mouth was open slightly. She was flushed a wonderful tender pink and Cullen couldn’t help but think she looked as though she had just sunk into a hot bath. Her head rested back on the cold stone, and she surveyed him with heavy lidded eyes. What was going on? She seemed to recognise it too. There was a point when her mouth closed. Cullen watched her purposefully force the air out of her nostrils. He watched her clavicle made more defined with each breath in and out. He had become very aware of his body against her. He noticed how much taller he was than her. The air was full of an electricity that had nothing to do with her magic. It was irresistible. He didn’t know how long they stood like this..

Too long apparently...

The inquisitor, with one hand caught and the other trapped between them, with no other option it seemed, then proceeded to slam her forehead right onto the bridge of Cullen’s nose. He released her with a yelp, holding his face. When he looked up he could see that she was smiling slightly, her eyes wide with shock, and... something else. She held her arm, fingers feeling her wrist.

‘That’s enough, I think, Commander.’ She breathed. Cullen was thrown into sudden panic. What had he done? He had assaulted the inquisitor, and his anger was so fresh, he had not felt anything like it for years. His face must have belied his emotions because the inquisitor shook her head at him.  
‘Don’t worry. I won’t mention it.’ She was still leaning against the wall.  
‘I...’ Cullen started to speak but she cut across him. ‘Probably best that you go. If no one heard that, I’d be very surprised.’ She seemed to purr it to him. Cullen’s head throbbed with confusion and anguish. He did as she said however. He made for the door. He quickly slipped past a group of guards and other troubled people who must have been alerted by their voices and the thrashing around. 

He finally made it back to his room in the tower and sat at his desk. Quietly stunned by his own actions, he simply stared at the walls until the candles burnt low. He fully expected fists on the door at any moment, but hours later into the night, there had been nothing, just the occasional burst of song coming from the tavern below his window. He was desperately trying to sort and order his own thoughts in the darkness. He couldn’t believe that his usually placid and calm demeanour had been broken by her. She tapped into some terrible vein of roughness within. It felt like she had slit an artery and out of it had streamed... blackness. His own blackness. His terrible shame. It was so hard to keep it under wraps all these years. She had shot to it directly. Almost as if she had done so before, but he was sure that since her arrival at the chantry, she had never spoken to him like that. His pride was so precious. The more he thought the more the heat grew in him again. ‘How dare she...’ he murmured aloud to himself. ‘How...’ he tailed off, his mind slipping to the fight it self. He finally allowed himself to think of it in its entirety. The way her eyes had widened when he had plowed into her. How quickly she had recovered and gave as good as she got. It just wasn’t a match for his strength given to him by that pure black shame. He shuddered slightly. And then... what had happened after? When they had both paused. When they had both demonstrated their power over each other. The way she had looked, it was almost as if he was looking at her for the first time. He had always recognised that she was attractive. Trevelyan had those almond shaped eyes, most would comment on those first but they had always made him mistrust her. They were haughty and beautiful.. but also wild, untameable. That white-blue stare had flickered when he held her against the wall. He knew at the time, at the time he was sure, but now, late in the night and in the silence of his room, he had lost all confidence in that. Perhaps it was just something he wanted to see. He wanted her to show a lust for him, an acceptance of his strength and an acknowledgment of it. He didn’t know anymore. Perhaps the point wasn’t how she looked at him in that moment, more it was the way he knew he had overwhelmed her, and maybe that was why he had felt so much in such a small space of time. He felt he had conquered. He had overpowered her. In all the arguments they had over the previous months, he had always felt disregarded by the inquisitor, like he was nothing, worse than nothing. But equally, hadn’t he disregarded her? He had actively tried to block out seeing her as a woman, tried not to think of her body under her mage robes, her shape, the soft skin that surely exists... all because of how much he detested her lack of respect. He also struggled to trust her. Not that she had ever given him or anyone a reason to. He couldn’t help that, he had years and years of that wariness built into him. He had seen things that would colour his views forever more. When the inquisitor accepted the mages into Haven like long lost family, he could hardly keep his thoughts to himself.. 

——

Trevelyan watched Cullen leave and the door close behind him. She stood there, for a second longer, her eyes still wide, still staring. Then a smile broke across her face, a wide grin which quickly turned to excited laughter. She looked down at her wrist which throbbed painfully and giggled again, shaking her head in disbelief. Commander Cullen, so strapped in, so on the level, often deserving of her irreverence, the man of few words - he was as dark as any Templar she had met before. Of course he was. A good Templar? Please.

She moved towards her desk, still marvelling at her arm when she heard knocks on the door. ‘Inquisitor?!’ A concerned voice called out. She didn’t have a moment to answer when the door burst open and about five people fell through into the room. Amongst the guards was Sera, who, for some reason, was riding piggy-back on one of the men. Trevelyan leant against her desk, which she hoped obscured the up-ended ink pot and scattered papers. ‘What the FUCK is going on!’ Sera announced, hopping down and crossing her arms. The inquisitor looked innocent enough, ‘Sera... Everybody.’ She nodded hello. ‘Hmm. Don’t worry about hellos, mate. It sounded like there was a herd of druffalo up here!’ Sera suddenly paused and looked around the room quickly, as if she was expecting to see something out of place. ‘I brought the guards but... probably could have handled this myself. Stand down boys!’ She patted the head of the man who’s back she had come riding in on who looked understandably irked. The guards started to exit with looks of puzzlement exchanged between them. ‘So...’ Sera held the door before it shut, ‘you look sort of... weird.’ ‘Thanks?’ Trevelyan grinned. ‘Not weird,’ Sera blurted in her usual broken-thought fashion, ‘just... like... I’m sure something just happened and you know it happened but you don’t want me to know it happened and that is, to be honest with you, really weird.’ She took a deep breath. ‘I’m fine.’ The inquisitor shifted slightly but then remembered she had to stay put. Sera squinted in mock suspicion. ‘Well, I don’t believe you.’ She then looked slightly put out, and it made Trevelyan feel guilty, ‘but... if you don’t want to say...’ She started disappearing around the door. Just as the inquisitor began to relax and move away, Sera popped her head around the door again, ‘OOOO!’ The inquisitor quickly resumed her place at the desk and slightly off balance, nearly slipped off, ‘Dorian has challenged Bull to “ultimate” wicked grace in the tavern tonight. The stakes. Are. High.’ Sera’s eyes were glittering with excitement. Trevelyan smiled at her, ‘That sounds... slightly worrying.’ Sera threw her head back and cackled, stopping suddenly, ‘you gonna come?’ It was odd but Trevelyan could rarely say no when Sera looked so maniacal. ‘Of course. I’ll be there.’ Sera grinned at her, but still wasn’t ready to leave, ‘fuck yeah, you’ll be there. Who doesn’t want to see Dorian lose to Bull and have to...’ she paused, as if realising who she was talking to, and grinned sweetly, as the inquisitor raised an eyebrow. ‘Well... see you lat-Ah...’ she slowly moved backwards, waving as she went and then she was gone.

The inquisitor waited ten whole seconds before she stepped towards the door and then locked it quickly. She turned and rested against the it, knocking her head against the wood gently, thinking. Pushing the slightly concerning reaction of Sera and the night ahead out of her mind, she returned to what had happened but five minutes before. 

‘Cullen.’ She whispered, she shook her head again, smiling once more, ‘Cullen!’ stepping into the room, her heart was pounding as she relived it all again. ‘A lion after all...’ she put her hand to her forehead. How was it even possible! Had it really happened? What a rush. She had felt so angry at first, when he first went for her like a madman. As if she was not going to give it back! The bloody nerve! She had thought that he would stop, after she had asserted herself again, pushing him back, but he didn’t! He kept going! He... overpowered her. When he stood against her, she was immediately aware of his touch. She was aware of his size. His hand grasping her wrist. It had hurt. She was, for just a moment, actually frightened - taken back to a time long ago. She thought it was probably the first time they had actually touched each other. His legs had somehow pushed hers aside, a complete coincidence she was sure, but it had still felt quite wrong, in a delicious way. She hoped he felt it, of course he felt it. She closed her eyes and imagined his face, how good he looked enraged. She had thought for a few seconds about leaning in and kissing him, as she had a flicker of hope he would do to her, but he had just stood there, nostrils flared, staring at her like... he had felt it too. She grinned to herself again. Even after all that red hot hatred, the situation had lit something for him, she was sure. She recalled how he had stared at her lips, at her neck. It wasn’t the first time she had wondered if his gaze was lingering, but it was the first time she had been sure she was right. But he had taken too long.

She moved to the desk and started to tidy the papers and in doing so, got ink all over her hands. She didn’t care though, her mind was summersaulting off into fantasy. She did have one clear thought along with the heart fluttering haze that came from it all: she had opened up a little wound in him. She was going to explore it. She was going to push him to his limit.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for coming back!  
> The usual apologies - spelling/grammar/canon. Just one more chapter after this. Maybe two?

‘No! No! NO!’ Screamed Dorian at the top of his lungs. Everyone, the whole tavern exploded Into whoops and whistles. Dorian stood and hopped on the spot as Bull laid his final card, winning the game. Sera immediately dived onto Bull and somehow managed at one point to actually stand on his head, balancing on his horns, before she was pulled down, or fell off, in the revelry. Varric clapped Dorian on the back and Cassandra held her face in disbelief. ‘I’ve never seen a hand like that before.’  
Bull smirked up at Dorian, who hadn’t stopped shaking his head violently since he laid.  
‘No. Nope. I’m sorry, it’s impossible. You’re a cheat!’ Dorian stammered. Bull chuckled and downed his ale. The Chargers had burst into some of the worst singing anyone had ever heard and Trevelyan simply sat grinning at her friends. It had been hard to focus that evening, luckily there was only drinking and banter to concentrate on, but it hadn’t gone completely unnoticed.  
At one point Cole had found her, and although she had tried her best to evade him, he had a chance to exclaim aloud, ‘you’re so excited by what happened earlier!’, which raised a few confused expressions among the group. She had laughed and shook her head, shrugging at those around her. It had continued each time he saw her, ‘sweet force against the stone wall!’ He shouted across the bar, and she momentarily put her head in her hands. She had managed at some stage to get him on his own, away from the others.  
‘Cole, I know you feel better for voicing it, but I know, you know-‘ he interrupted her, ‘it’s the start of something new!’ She stopped and couldn’t help but blush, ‘maybe.’  
Cole smiled placidly.  
‘It’s just, I don’t want anyone knowing these things.’ Cole nodded slowly and then gazed up at a spot in the ceiling.  
‘He’s feeling very scared of what might happen. He doesn’t understand. He wants to feel, to twist, to,..’  
‘that’s him now?’ She questioned, suddenly interested.  
‘He wants to do things. Bad things that are also beautiful things.’ The inquisitor’s eyes had lit up, flushing ever more pink, ‘Maker..’ And then, Sera again, tripling over a chair or four. ‘Trev! Trev!’ She bounced between them and flung her arms around Cole who immediately vanished into thin air prompting Sera to fall straight to the ground.  
‘Such a weird guy!’ Sera shouted. Trevelyan picked Sera up, dusting her off.  
‘Sweet Andraste’s tits, you HAVE to see Dorian strip and run around the court yard.’  
She did a double take looking back at Sera, ‘what!’  
‘Well, that’s what Bull is going to make him do, I think.’ Sera gushed. 

After the night was well and truly over, Dorian had managed to get away with not streaking around the Skyhold courtyard, much to most’s disappointment - as Cassandra had mentioned at one stage at a particularly drunken moment: ‘I need to see Dorian’s staff before I die.’ But oddly Bull and Dorian had slipped away at some point. No one seemed to care...

The inquisitor walked back to her room. It seemed to take a long time. She got in and went straight to the balcony, still needing the air. Leaning on the ledge there, she took a deep breath, feeling her wrist again. She was so drunk she could almost sense him there. She dropped her head down onto her arm and her thoughts span wildly. Eventually she moved back into the room, and caught herself in the mirror. Trevelyan decided to remove her clothing there, so she could watch herself, unsure why, to try to see what he saw perhaps. She ran her hands through her hair, her heart thudding against her chest again. Under the sheets of her bed, her hand snaked down low over her stomach. She thought of Cullen only. Hating her and wanting her. 

———

Cullen woke up at his desk with a start. He hadn’t made it to bed the night before. He had been dreaming, he was sure of that, but the dream was quickly slipping from his memory. It was like trying to keep water cupped in his hands: it leaked out between his fingers and before he knew it, the only thing left was an empty feeling of want. 

He was alerted by the sound of the bell which tolled for morning. Time for everyone to be working in earnest. He gasped to himself and quickly stood, his legs feeling like lead from his unorthodox sleeping position, and stumbled towards the door. He hadn’t bathed or washed from the day before, a realisation that made him pause and eye the bowl on the shelf. He had no time he decided and slipped through the door.

He walked along the ramparts to the main fortress, the great hall, keeping his head down. He couldn’t help but think that people were staring at him. Finally, reaching the hallway that lead to the war room and which doubled as Josephine’s study, he breathed out a long sigh. It seemed he had been holding his breath the whole way. He didn’t realise that Josephine was still sitting at her desk until he heard her voice, ‘Commander! So you’re running late too, good!’ He looked over at the lady gathering her papers from the desk. Cullen paused on route and gave her a weak smile. Josephine had already leapt into her morning round up, jabbering away, picking things up and putting them down, collecting her writing board with candle when she finally looked up at the Commander.  
‘Oh!’ She squealed, dropping the writing board on the floor with a loud clatter which echoed around the hall. She put her hands over her mouth, ‘I’m sorry, Commander... but your face!’, Cullen stood and touched his face reactively, looking at his fingers, but there was nothing there. Josephine went straight to her drawer and produced a small oval mirror with jewels encrusted into the handle. She quickly stepped to Cullen and handed him the mirror which he held up to his face. So it seemed the inquisitor had done more damage that he had first thought. He looked a mess: dried blood had congealed around his nostrils but he had managed to wipe a good lot of it around his face while it was still wet. His eyes had darkish circles underneath them. ‘Did you not wash this morning?’ Josephine said, squinting at him.  
‘I... overslept. Didn’t have time.’  
‘Hmph!’ She clearly didn’t approve. She pulled him over to the jug and bowl which sat on her drawer. ‘Here, quickly.’ She watched him scrub his face with an icy gaze. Only now did Cullen realise how much his nose actually hurt. ‘What... happened?’ She said slowly.  
Cullen caught himself before he said something stupid like “walked into a door”, ‘One of the new recruits caught me a glancing blow, I’m afraid.’ He said while he cleared the remainder of the dried blood.  
‘Oh.’ She said, her tone still seemed testy as she eyed the water which was now a dirty brown colour.  
‘Thank you.’ Cullen wiped his face and looked at Josephine for her approval.  
‘That will have to do.’ She murmured although her eyes still raked at his unkempt hair. ‘I’ll arrange for a bath to be brought up to your quarters.’ 

The pair moved through the enormous double doors into the war room. Cullen’s heart had hammered momentarily before entering. They were met by Leliana and the inquisitor, who had her back to them, leaning on the large wooden table in the centre of the room. They appeared to be gossiping.  
Leliana nodded and smiled at the arrivals before echoing Josephine’s reaction to Cullen’s face, ‘Cullen!’ She kept her arms crossed but shook her head, ‘you look terrible!’, the inquisitor had no choice but to stand and turn to observe him. Cullen kept his gaze on Leliana.  
‘Just a little accident.’ He smiled, ‘new recruits.’ Leliana laughed and put her hand to her mouth. ‘Maybe a healer?’, She said with a hint of sarcasm, raising an eyebrow.  
‘Yes... I haven’t had a chance.’  
The inquisitor cleared her throat and Cullen looked at her for the first time since their entrance. He hated the way she made his muscles tighten under his armour.  
She was smirking at him and then, ‘I can handle it, Commander, if you will let me.’ They all stood in silence. Clearly the idea of the inquisitor helping the commander or vice versa was more than unusual to the other two women, but they knew better than to voice it, and instead they exchanged a look. Cullen was caught slightly off-guard. He certainly hadn’t expected this from the inquisitor, and he worked to keep his eyebrows from rising up his head and his expression neutral.  
‘Fine.’ Cullen said curtly. His response induced another quick look between Leliana and Josephine which they soon hid when the gaze of the inquisitor forced them to.  
‘I’ll find you after our meeting, then.’ She smiled serenely. Cullen bristled slightly at her tone.  
‘Don’t bother yourself too much,’ he muttered. A pause, and then she responded, ‘it’s really not a problem,’ off-hand, crossing her arms and looking down at the map in front of her, ‘and in the meantime, you can tell me where your soldiers have gotten to in the Wastes.’ 

The meeting went on as it usually did, Josephine agreed with Leliana, who disagreed with Trevelyan, who then in turn disagreed with Josephine but then agreed with them both - and so on. The one constant was that Cullen and The inquisitor always disagreed - on everything. Especially where the Mages were concerned. 

After the meeting and a short walk around the courtyard, Cullen took himself back to his quarters. Josephine was as good as her word. There was a large metal bath tub next to the open fire. He wondered when the inquisitor would make her appearance, or whether she would at all. The feeling in the very pit of his stomach surprised him. Was that, excitement? What could she want with him? Maybe to tell him to leave the inquisition. That would be bucket of cold water for sure. 

After he had removed his armour and climbed into the bath tub, he allowed himself to think of the previous afternoon. He could almost feel her in his grasp. 

———

Cullen was in the middle of his paperwork assigned to him that morning when there was a knock at the door. He hadn’t put his armour back on, preferring today his leather tunic. Although he was needed in training later, there was no need to replace his uniform before it was necessary, besides his lyrium withdrawal had made his armour feel so heavy the last few days. It was a relief to have it off. 

He opened the door and there she stood; the inquisitor. Her pale hair was blowing slightly in the breeze from the ramparts, along with her robes which swirled around her legs. Her hands were on her hips and she squinted at him in the hazy sunshine. 

‘Commander.’ She said, nodding her head. ‘Inquisitor.’ His response. He lead her into his quarters and she closed the door behind her. It was much darker inside now.  
‘Well...’ Cullen turned and looked down at her, breathing out slowly. Flashbacks of yesterday. She seemed to be assessing him.  
‘Well.’ She repeated. ‘Seems only fair that I sort that out for you, doesn’t it?’ She pointed to his chair, ‘sit.’ Cullen shot her a cool look, ‘please?’ She purred. He rolled his eyes and moved behind his desk. He sat in the high backed chair that had doubled as his bed the previous night. He stiffened slightly when Trevelyan moved round with him, and sidled in front, lifting herself up onto the desk. She crossed her legs between his and leant forward slightly. Cullen raised an eyebrow but didn’t speak. She lifted her hand and held it a few inches from his face. Cullen still didn’t move, didn’t flinch. It made her smirk. Pale blue mana seeped from her fingers and sunk into his skin. He closed his eyes, the dark circles began to disappear, and it felt.. good, of course. Once it was over, he touched his face; no pain.  
‘Thank you.’ He said, leaning back in his chair and watching her. She also moved backwards, shifting herself with her hands, but didn’t jump down off of the desk.  
‘I’ve been thinking about what happened yesterday,’ she finally spoke, ‘a lot.’ Cullen stayed still in his chair, he gripped the arms for a second.  
‘I should apologise.’ Cullen murmured. Trevelyan grinned at him, ‘but, you won’t.’ Cullen relaxed slightly. What. Was. Going. On. ‘I shouldn’t have said those things. I mean, clearly I touched a nerve,’ She swung her legs a little, ‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen you quite like that’ she stared at him, her expression was hard to evaluate. Cullen breathed steadily. ‘For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.’  
Cullen nodded his head, ‘me too. That was... I was so angry. I suppose it had been building for weeks and...’  
She nodded, her eyes glittering. ‘Yes, you were.’ He felt hot all of a sudden. Trevelyan’s eyes flicked down his chest. He was a second away from moving towards her when she stuck a hand out to him, and let it hang in the space between them.  
‘I hope we can put it behind us.’ She smiled. His face fell. Was she teasing him? After all that, it was just a tease. She knew it too. He frowned at her, and then, smiling grimly in return, took her hand. She slipped down and moved past him, momentarily sending a wave of her sweet scent floating across into his nostrils.  
She turned on the spot and smiled again, ‘what are your plans for today?’  
He had followed her into the centre of the room, crossing his arms, ‘I have some training later, some new recruits...’ he paused ‘the ones I blamed this on.’ He tapped his nose. Trevelyan grinned, ‘poor recruits.’ She spun around to the door and pulled it towards her, ‘I’m also overseeing training, there’s a few young mages who need some guidance. Vivienne has been badgering me all week.’ She stopped before she disappeared through the door, ‘perhaps we could combine our efforts?’ Her blue eyes flickered under her eyelashes.   
‘Combine our efforts?’ He tilted his head.  
‘Yes, train together, train the soldiers and the mages... alongside each other? After all, they will be fighting all kinds in the enemy’s army.’ Cullen tensed again. It was these unorthodox ideas which made him dislike her so. But he would play the game.  
‘All right. This afternoon in the courtyard.’  
She smiled and nodded, ‘excellent. And perhaps we can give them a little demonstration of our own, show them how it’s done...’ the inquisitor had slipped away before Cullen could respond. The door closed. He felt the back of his head and then watched her from the window, walking back across he ramparts.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just going to post all of it now... stand by. I hope you enjoy!

‘All right, men.’  
‘And women!’ Came a shout from the gaggle, ‘and women.’ Cullen affirmed. He stood surveying the group before him in the bright courtyard, the sun glinting off of his chest plate. ‘Today, things will be a little different to usual.’ He couldn’t keep the surly tone from his voice, ‘The inquisitor, in her wisdom, has suggested that we train alongside the mage recruits from Redcliffe..’ the reaction from the crowd was generally negative, with sighs and tuts audible amongst the murmurs and a few loud exclamations of confusion.  
‘Commander, you can’t be serious?’ Cullen eyed the young recruit at the front of the gang who had spoken to him directly.  
‘I am serious.’ More unhappy gabbling. ‘Look, I’m confident that we can hold our own. They’re all sparks and light, no real steel.’ He bashed his breast plate. ‘Besides, I always find a swift kick to the stomach puts down any mage.’ The group jeered and whooped. ‘Commander, I hope you’re not teaching your recruits to fight dirty.’ A high voice called out from behind him, making all the soliders stand silent. Cullen turned to his side, and smirked at the inquisitor. She looked rather resplendent in her mage armour, the long leather cloak shone with golden thread and her staff on her back which fizzed and crackled with some unknown force. She folded her arms and behind her, walking down the path, were about twelve or so awkward looking teenagers. Cullen could think only of their unbridled power and how dangerous they could, each of them, turn out to be.  
‘Just a little joke, inquisitor!’ He smiled wide, ‘I was starting to think you weren’t going to show up.’ 

It turned out the soldiers had nothing to worry about. The Inquisitor had indeed been jesting when she had suggested the two sides fight. The training was mainly harmless sparring, with the mages practising their healing spells on the recruits - to Cullen’s surprise, they all seemed to get along well.  
‘Well done everyone.’ The inquisitor walked along the line of mixed soldiers and mages. ‘You see, our strength will come from our united front. The core of our army is built on mutual respect for both sides of the same coin. Mages and Soliders... We are all equally vital.’  
Cullen watched her address the group and found himself admiring her a little, as begrudging as he was with his admiration. The weight of the world has been thrust upon her shoulders and out of it she had emerged a leader. Of sorts.  
‘Now, myself and Commander Cullen are going to demonstrate the true power of the sword and the staff.’  
Cullen thought he had misheard. He did a small double take and then laughed. A joke, surely. He could hardly be expected to fight her in his current state, even the thought of which sent sharp withdrawal pangs through his entire body. But the inquisitor was not joking, she had already walked to the other side of the yard and was spinning her staff. His face dropped and he walked to his sword and shield on the ground.  
‘Ready, Commander?’  
He had barely the time to raise his shield when a thundering bolt of white light came hurtling across the ground and exploded upon him. He smirked, emerging unscathed and spun his sword in his hand. The onlookers gasped and a few shouted words of encouragement. He made towards the inquisitor, with his shield lifted, catching each of her attacks. The metal started to become hot in his hand, he could feel it through his glove, but he continued to move steadily forward. Soon he was in short distance of her and shoved his shield into the ground, knocking back her attacks with his sword now, moving balletically towards her. He caught her gaze, her eyes wide with concentration, and perhaps, a small amount of fear. He stepped towards her and swung his sword, not overly hard, producing screams from the small crowd, she parried with her staff and took the opportunity to fire off another ball of electric mass which grazed his side as he tried to evade. She smiled triumphantly. They both paused as he examined the singed cloth on his thigh, he grinned back at her and she suddenly stood ready again. He had to admit, it was an excellent stress reliever.  
He swung at her, meaningfully this time, connecting with her staff. Her strength could not match his and her boots started to slide back across the dusty ground, grinding over the dirt. He was picking up pace, pushing her further back. The gang of recruits and mages chased them down the keep. They had attracted the attention of others by now. As well as most labourers, the horse handlers and the market traders, Cassandra, Iron Bull, Vivienne and Solas had all congregated at the top of the steps in the upper level, with a good view of the fight. Cullen could hear Iron Bill’s roars of laughter at the sight before them. 

Cullen’s face was very close to the inquisitor’s, and as he thundered her backwards, he could see the focus caught in her forehead, creasing with effort, her eyes however, something there looked rather ... placid. They looked deep into his.  
‘We must stop meeting like this..’ she breathed at him. The words made him hold off slightly, and they slowed before meeting one of the stone walls by the steps. Cullen’s heart thudded in his chest. This was, apparently, what she had been waiting for. With a yell of effort her staff exploded and sent Cullen flying backwards in the direction of the crowd which scattered everywhere with shrieks and yells of terror. 

He lay on his back looking up at the blue sky, slightly dazed and feeling the familiar biting magic which pricked at his joints. He waited there until they subsided. His sword was god knows where.

The inquisitor had walked back towards everyone to scattered applause and distant jeering from a very excited Iron Bull. Cullen sat up slightly as she approached him and turned to the crowd. 

‘Well!’ she exclaimed breathlessly, ‘that was exciting!’ He watched her grinning at the gang, most of whom looked rather shaken, mage and soldier alike. Cullen burnt with annoyance at her relish. He was not quite done here. He looked to his side. There was a discarded rake laying in the dirt next to him. He grabbed it and stuck it between the inquisitor’s legs, tripping her. She twisted around, but Cullen was already on his feet. She eyed the rake in his hands, which he immediately swung at her: and the second battle began. The crowd which had swelled in size by now shouted and whooped with glee. Each time the two moved together, countering each other’s attacks, there was a sharp clattering of wooden rake on wooden staff which kept snapping in the air. Cullen allowed Trevelyan to keep pushing him back, letting her move the pair to a silver shimmering object in the grass. She had started to smile, the connection which they had come to understand between each other was palpable, even Cullen was beginning to enjoy it. Suddenly he kicked at something in the ground while thrusting the rake at her, and before the inquisitor had time to look back up, Cullen had his sword in his hand again. Her expression shot to abject shock. She twisted her staff and, so close to Cullen now, aimed straight at his head. The Commander was a second in front of her. With a huge upwards thrust of his sword, he knocked the staff away, she stumbled backwards but not before firing off three bolts which Cullen ducked to avoid. She jumped back and laughed at him, ‘Commander, you will not beat me.’ She cooed at him, ‘we’re not taking a tumble in my quarters now,’ a devilish smile played upon her lips, ‘we have an audience... and I do so hate to disappoint.’ Her tone sent his muscles twitching with rage, that familiar black shame slicing at his insides. Cullen growled and swung again, she stumbled once more, lifting her staff to protect her, but this time something strange happened, the strength and rage behind Cullen’s attack had increased tenfold, and this final blow was entirely unique. A Templar blow. The steel connected with the wooden staff, and split it clean in two - the staff responded on its own by exploding at the break with purple and white sparks firing in all directions. The inquisitor yelled in terror as she dropped the two broken ends. Cullen was just as shocked by what had happened. His sword held limply in his hands with the tip resting on the ground.  
‘Maker...’ Cullen said, his eyes wide. He tried to catch his breath. The inquisitor‘s mouth hung open, still staring at the shattered staff which smouldered on the ground.  
After a few moments she raised her head, ‘you...’ She whispered, full of rage. She stalked towards him and stopped with just a few inches between them. Cullen opened his mouth but no words came out. He thought she looked like a goddess of war, her hair tousled and her cheeks flushed. 

‘That’s QUITE enough!’ The sound of Vivienne’s strict voice brought them both back to reality. Cullen half turned, not wanting to take his eyes fully from the inquisitor. Vivienne and Cassandra were running down the stone steps towards them.  
‘A fine example to set!’ Shrieked Cassandra. ‘Everyone, go back to whatever you were doing. Recruits - just... go!’  
The crowd started to disperse, some groaned, some were still laughing and jeering.   
‘Inquisitor,’ Vivienne had reached them, ‘I’m quite sure your intentions here were initially well placed. But I can’t help but think that this little show was... personal.’ Her brown eyes slid between the two, who were still out of breath.   
‘It was an outrage.’ Cassandra confirmed, walking over to them. ‘Cullen, you embarrassed yourself and Inquisitor - what were you thinking?!’  
After a period of time where Cullen assured the two that they had no personal issues with each other, that it was a demonstration that had simply got out of hand, they finally moved on. The Inquisitor just stood there, she didn’t speak but was quietly blistering with rage.  
Cullen tried to approach her before she stormed off, but didn’t quite manage it. He felt strangely good though as he watched her leave. He was finally free of whatever had been holding him back. The fight had left him feeling... revived. Even the want for lyrium had dispersed into a stronger desire that filled the pit of his stomach. 

At the top of the steps, Solas had turned to Iron Bull and said, with a small smile, ‘Well, that must have been cathartic for them.’


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy, naughty people!

It cannot go on like this... I need to know if this is all just a game. 

Cullen stood on the ramparts leaning on the stone wall, his eyes firmly focused high above him, across the keep; the balcony that belonged to the inquisitor. 

Ever since they had first met there had been... sparks. Trevelyan had been brought in as the main suspect in one of the greatest crimes that had ever befallen Thedas - the destruction of the Chantry, and the murder of the Divine.  
Her entrance had caused quite a stir, and at the time, everyone was convinced of her guilt - not least of all Cullen himself. He had first met her when she was still in chains, surrounded by the guards that had survived the explosion. It wasn’t the first time he had witnessed a mage bound and helpless. 

‘What is your name, Mage?’ He had asked her, waiting for her eyes to meet his. But they didn’t, she kept her gaze firmly on the ground. ‘My name is Orla Mor... my family name is Trevelyan.’ She had told him with a tangible sadness in her voice. She was crying quietly. Cullen recalled how it had made his torso tense up. She had finally looked up at him and he was struck by her beauty. Typical, he had thought at the time.  
‘You are accused of-‘ he began but she had cut across him, ‘I’ve already been briefed.’ Cullen felt a surge of annoyance. ‘That may be but I must give you a formal-‘ she cut across him again, ‘very well.’ She said shortly. She looked up defiantly at him, tears in her red eyes. What was this? Was she afraid or not? It appeared to him that her tears did not come from any sense of fear of her predicament. He didn’t continue right away but simply frowned at her, trying to figure her out. She seemed to sense his assessment, shifting in her position. He thought for a moment that maybe she curved her back slightly, placing her shoulders back so that her body made a perfect S shape while she knelt before him. He perhaps imagined it, but he could have sworn she dipped her head and gazed at him from under her eyelashes. Was she trying to get out of this somehow? Not somehow, it seemed apparent exactly how...  
‘Orla Trevelyan, you stand accused of murder in the first order, of the Divine and countless others, the destruction of the Chantry and the use of a dark magic to suit your purposes.’  
She tossed her head and groaned, ‘a dark magic?’ She repeated, squinting at him. ‘Are you a Templar or something?’ He glared at her. ‘That’s really none of your-‘  
‘Oh, just get on with it.’ She looked back at the ground. The guards around her seemed to be holding back smirks.  
‘Leave us!’ Cullen barked. He wasn’t about to be made a mockery of in front of an audience for a second longer. The four guards clattered out of the chamber, Cullen could hear them scoffing as they ascended the steps beyond.  
Lifting the papers that he had been left by the guards, the notes that documented exactly how they had found her, he cleared his throat. ‘I want to know what you hoped to achieve in destroying the Chantry?’ He gazed at the notes without looking up at her. Nothing. ‘Whether you work for someone?’ He flipped the paper over. ‘Or do you work alone?’  
He spent some time repeating the questions. After a while he realised that she was crying again. She didn’t make a sound, but the tears flowed freely off of her nose and chin. He was puzzled, torn between wanting to interrogate her and wanting to console.  
‘Why do you cry?’  
‘People are dead.’ She shot back at him. ‘It’s normal to be sad when people die.’ She mumbled something under her breath which he was sure was an insult. He gritted his teeth and stood straight. Enough.  
‘Your fate will be left to the will of those who survived the Chantry.’ He said spitefully, ‘Maker have mercy on you.’ He turned to leave the room.  
Just as he made the door, she spoke. ‘Wait.’ Her tone was soft. Vulnerable. It made his heart skip a beat. Cullen looked at her side on. She was posturing in that way again. Was she? His heart hammered.  
‘Let me go.’ She sighed.  
Cullen screwed his face up, smiling a little, ‘you don’t expect me to just free you? You’re a murderer.’  
‘I am not.’ The way she said it made Cullen almost believe her. ‘I don’t know what happened. I don’t know what this is,’ she raised her hand indicating to the green energy that marked her very skin, ‘but have I done nothing wrong.’ Her voice shook with sincerity. Cullen made a few steps towards her.  
‘I don’t know what to say.’ He said simply. She suddenly threw herself on the ground before him, her hair flashing in the light of the torches all around.  
‘Please!’ She shouted, ‘you must believe me.’ Cullen knelt down and held her up, his hands gripping her upper arms. He looked into her eyes. She was surely dangerous. She was still an apostate Mage even if she was not the culprit.  
‘We must take due care with you. We don’t know what you are, who you are...’ he said, trying to sound as tender as possible, but she had already started to scowl.  
‘Let me GO!’ She shouted, sparks flying from her cuffed hands. Cullen shoved her backwards before she could do any damage, with a look of disgust. She lay on the dungeon floor, and curled up. He felt a pang of guilt but pushed that aside.  
‘You will see trial.’ He sniffed and walked to the door, signalling the guards at the top of the stairs. ‘And you’ll be seeing me again.’ 

———

There was a knock at the door to her quarters. She already knew who it would be. Dragging her feet slightly, she placed her hand on the door handle and lifted it, pulling back, but just allowing a crack. It was him. He kept his face expressionless.  
‘I’m sorry.’ He said flatly.  
‘You broke my staff.’ Trevelyan replied in equal fashion. It made him flicker slightly, she watched the corners of his mouth prick upwards. She went to close the door on him, but Cullen held it open. She shoved it but he didn’t budge. With an exasperated groan she threw the door away from her and marched back into her room. Cullen followed her, closing it behind him with a soft clunk.  
‘What do you want?’ She spun back, but Cullen had got closer than she realised. Her blue eyes followed upwards to his and narrowed. If he thought for a second that now was the time..  
‘Get out.’ She turned again and walked away.  
‘Not yet. I need to talk to you.’ He said.  
‘You WILL get out,’ she shouted and pointed to the window, ‘I’ll send you right out of that if you don’t expel yourself from my sight!’  
Cullen smirked and stepped into her, he raised a hand and made to touch the side of her face. Trevelyan did not melt.  
‘I’m just glad I can make you equally vitriolic.’  
Her heart hammered, blood pumping in her ears. She took his hand and slowly but forcefully pulled it away from her.  
‘I think I know what you’re trying to say.’ She said smiling and squinting sardonically. Cullen’s face slowly dropped. He waited for a moment, thinking, watching her.  
‘I think you’re daring me, inquisitor.’  
She eyed him up and down.  
He continued, ‘I think you’ve been daring me for quite a while.’ She crossed her arms.  
‘You think that’s what this has been about?’  
‘Yes, I do’ he affirmed, ‘because you want me to...’  
After he paused, she quirked an eyebrow. ‘Yes?’ 

Cullen felt himself swell against his breeches. Her voice didn’t make him want to throttle her any more but there was still a strong need to possess her, to overwhelm her. He didn’t want to take her comfortably, he didn’t want her to feel like she had bested him ever again. He wanted her weak and helpless, unable to fend him off. It was such a deep, dark desire and finally admitting it to himself was just the first step.

He took a deep breath. She stared at him, waiting for a response.  
‘You want me to take away your control.’ He said finally. The inquisitor’s mouth twitched. ‘To challenge you.’ Again, something changed about her. Her crossed arms slackened slightly, but she didn’t stop him. ‘If I didn’t know any better, I would say that you want me to make you feel like that little girl in the Ostwick circle, surrounded by Templar soldiers, crushing your spirit, taking everything away from you.’  
She shook. She visibly shook in front of him. ‘Don’t... speak...’  
‘You want me to play the Templar.’  
‘You are a Templar.’ She shot back at him. Her voice echoed a little around the room.  
‘I was.’  
‘And always.’ She said firmly, but she had cooled slightly, he followed her gaze which seemed to be raking at his body. ‘I think we should be honest about what you want.’  
Cullen smiled warily. She continued, bolstered by a new confidence, ‘after all, let’s not pretend I’m the only one with desires here.’  
‘You want to know what, my fantasies?’ He questioned her, moving his broad arms across his chest.  
‘If you’re done telling me mine?’ She smirked. She turned and walked to her desk, Cullen let his gaze slide down her body. The inquisitor sat back against the desk and spread her long legs. She put her hands up into her pale blonde hair. Cullen’s chest swelled, his head moving back slightly to survey her. ‘You’re...’ he started but his voice tailed off, his mouth seeming to fill with salvia.  
She watched him for a few moments, enjoying his fixation, and then, ‘it’s so tempting to not let you have it,’ She stared at him, ‘just to see your face when I said...“no”.’ The inquisitor let her hair fall around her shoulders.  
‘I don’t know what you mean.’ Cullen growled, his face full of grim pleasure.  
‘Oh, please. We know why you’re here Commander. What would you do? What would you do if I didn’t let you?’ She asked, trying to hide her excitement, leaning forward on the desk. He tried to retain his calm demeanour.  
‘I would just take it.’ He said nonchalantly. Her eyes lit up.  
‘You would not.’ She giggled and put her hands to her mouth.  
‘I would.’ He nodded grinning at her. After a pause they both laughed a little at each other. The inquisitor slowly stopped snickering and then silence again in the chamber, save for the echoing shouts of the courtyard far below them. Cullen felt the pressure again under his clothes, but didn’t move.  
He sighed at her, ‘I’ve been thinking about doing these things to you,’ Trevelyan flushed immediately, he watched the colour rise in her cheeks.  
‘What...’ she whispered, as Cullen let his arms fall to his sides and he stepped towards her.   
‘Terrible things. I should be ashamed of what I’ve made you do in my imagination,’ he said. She started shaking her head slowly, but he could tell it was lighting her up from the inside out. ‘I haven’t ever wanted anything so much...’ Cullen was now in front of her. The inquisitor put her hands against his chest to keep the space between them. ‘Hearing you beg...’ he said, ‘Maker, how I long to hear you beg.’ The inquisitor’s mouth was open in silent awe of him, it spurred him on. ‘Pulling down those defences...’ Cullen voice shook slightly, the adrenaline in free flow. ‘Eventually making you hurt... making you bleed.’  
‘You’re sick.’ She whispered slowly, her eyes widening in realisation.  
‘You’ve done that to me. You’ve blurred the lines.’  
‘It’s seems so.’ She said finally.  
He took hold of her wrists tightly and she swooned. He moved his head in and let their lips touch lightly for a second, exchanging breath. She looked frightened of her own desire, but it soon disappeared as quickly as he saw it. He felt the strain again below his naval and pushed her back gently.

Cullen’s fingers slid along her jaw and down to her neck. His hand cupped her throat and he waited for a second, eyeing her. He squeezed, her hands instinctively going up to hold onto his. He felt so desperate for her now. It was all his for the taking. Unable to bridle himself any longer, Cullen finally leant in and kissed her deeply. She moaned into his mouth as he tightened his hold on her neck. Trevelyan gave one more forceful push, trying to remove herself from his clutches. He leant her back again, insisting his weight until she lay down across the table, forcing himself between her legs. Every now and then she protested, at one point she put her fingers into his hair and gripped him. He ducked down and sucked at her neck, she loosened. 

———

Trevelyan’s head was swimming. He had her pinned to her own desk, he was breathing her in. He was stripping her, taking her face in his hands and examining her. His fingers had trailed down between her undergarments and he touched her there. She gasped, humiliated, but her ecstasy betrayed her. ‘Cullen...’ 

———

Hearing her say his name was like downing a vial of lyrium.  
‘Are you letting me take it...’ He murmured as he slid a finger across the delicate folds, ‘are you..’ he watched her tilt her head back, and shut her eyes tight. Her arms rested above her head on the table. She looked like a dream.  
‘No.’ She whispered back, the hint of satisfaction about her. He didn’t waste another moment and slid a finger inside her, the soft walls clenching around him. She let out a perfect gasp. He watched her wince before he swore she melted.  
After some time playing with her like this, his own member painfully pulsing each time she reacted at all, he proceeded to strip her of the remainder of her clothes. He stood back for a moment and allowed himself to view her entirely. The inquisitor was laying completely nude, watching him back. Her breasts were rising and falling gently. Her hair, the colour spider’s silk, pooled on the table around her head. Cullen started to undress, keeping his gaze on her. He noticed her do the faintest of flickers down his well built body, and smirked. He stepped towards her and slid his hands over her legs. She smouldered before him, before placing a foot on his chest.  
‘Stop...’ She breathed.  
‘You think you’ll stop me now?’ Cullen grinned, placing a hand over her foot.  
‘I just like looking at you like this.’ She said. He paused, stroking her foot with his thumb. She slowly slid it down his torso, over his stomach, and pressed it against the long, hard appendage that struck out from him. ‘Commander.’ She purred.  
He groaned, replacing his hands on her legs. She pressed harder and he winced with the sharp pleasure that tugged just behind his lower stomach.  
‘You’re teasing me again.’ He whispered to her.  
‘Who, me?’  
Cullen looked down to see her smiling. He gritted his teeth and pushed her leg aside, taking his place again between her thighs. The sharp intake of breath made him swell again. His member bounced in painful excitement just pushing gently against her warmth. She had put her hands on his shoulders, his were sliding down to grip her strong upper thighs. They kissed each other hard, drinking each other in. Cullen noticed her buck slightly against him, but he remained just beyond her. She started to bite his lip, kissing and licking his jaw all the way round to his earlobe which she forcefully bit again.  
‘Inquisitor...’ he groaned with just a hint of malice, ‘that hurts...’ he kissed her throat, smiling into the kiss. He felt her legs wrap around him tighter, encouraging him forward. He raised his head to look at her face. She was flushed, her lips bright red as the blood pumped them full.  
‘Bastard...’ she murmured with a small smirk, her nostrils flared. Cullen grinned and ducked his head down low over her breast sucking and kissing her there. She dug her fingernails into his arms when he bit her. ‘Fuck...’ she breathed. She grabbed a fistful of his hair. That got his attention. Cullen returned to his position above her, looking into her eyes.   
‘What’s the matter, Inquisitor?’ He said with mock concern. Cullen caught the hand she had raised to slap him with. He watched her squirm slightly until she stopped, and lay breathing heavily. She observed him with her light blue stare.  
‘You want to feel me inside you?’ He asked quietly, pressing his thumb gently into the palm of her hand. She moved her free hand to his face, and ran a finger down his cheek.   
‘You really are sick.’ she whispered back, her eyes wide and glittering. It was enough for Cullen. She made him feel like that, like someone else. He was so strapped in, reliable - a good man, everyone would agree that he was trustworthy, that he was kind. He had to admit that It was tiring being that person all the time. In the Inquisitor, he had found someone who provoked a darker side of him and who appeared to enjoy it.  
‘I’ll take that as a yes...’ Cullen lifted her body slightly, and pulled her towards him. She gasped again, instinctively wrapping her legs around his torso, hands sliding up and hooking her arms around his neck. He caught her gaze once more, their faces so close, he wanted to see her for what he was about to do - wanted to observe the tiny changes in her expression. If it felt good... if it hurt... Cullen started to press against her gently. He felt total resistance at first, the inquisitor’s opening was slick but so tensed. He increased the pressure, pushing harder, and all the while watching her. The inquisitor’s eyes had started to water a little. She carefully sucked in the air, shaking ever so slightly. Cullen finally slid a little further, the feeling of her gripped around him tightly nearly fetched him there. He watched her lips making a perfect O as he pushed until his entirety was buried inside her. He watched as her eyes closed and the effort of pleasure knotted in her beautiful brow. He finally had her. Cullen spent a few moments enjoying the inquisitor’s spasms, without moving, the pleasure that he was giving her just being inside her, stretching her, filling her up, pressing against the sweetest spot. She had turned her head to the side, as if she was trying to hide it from him. He gently took her face between his thumb and forefinger and made her look straight. She opened her eyes, dazed.  
‘We’re not done yet.’ He whispered to her. He retreated backwards slightly, not fully removing himself from her and then slid forward again, keeping her body close to him. She let out a whimper as he stretched her, her eyes rolling back. Cullen thrust a few strong strokes, his member slick with her moisture, before picking up the pace. Her moans were pure, golden, honey-laden - every time he pumped her a new melody escaped her lips. So sweet and so illicit. To hear her after all this time, now purring his name uncontrollably, it was a head thumping rush. It proved to be eradicating any sense of shame. Their match and the product of it was something he had wanted for a long time. Even before he had met her. To possess a mage, to conquer a fear and to prove to himself: he was the superior.  
He put his thumb into her mouth and she obediently sucked at it. He growled with pleasure, fucking her now, his strokes strong and deep. Her legs had become loose around him as she slipped from peak to peak, slowly becoming liquid beneath him. He was becoming liquid as well. He finally came with her head cradled in one hand. He came with a release that had built in him for many months, even before their fight in her office. A surge of desire to please the inquisitor, to ensure that he alone could completely satisfy her and a knowledge that he had this time taken her and made her totally his own. It was undeniable. On her desk no less.  
He lay on top of her for a moment more, careful to keep the pressure on his knees and arms, trying to catch his breath. He could feel her heart fluttering under him like a trapped moth. After a while he heaved himself up, and for lack of places to collapse, chose instead to sit in her chair, behind the desk. He slumped down and pushed his hair from his forehead, looking down at the inquisitor who lay across him, her head turned away. Cullen leant forward and carefully tucked a strand of her own hair back behind her ear which had found its way into her mouth. She was still breathing heavily, but had slowed now.  
He thought he could probably look on this sight for the rest of his life. The Inquisitor, conquered, bare and broken, brought to the brink. She turned her head to look at him. Cullen sat back eying her, his hands on the arms of the chair. After a while, the inquisitor twisted herself round and propped herself up on her elbows. Cullen took the opportunity to view her in this position, his gaze sliding down her spine, which was met with the taught muscle and perfect curvature of her sweet, round backside.  
‘Commander...’ she cooed at him, grinning. He looked back at her, a little dazed.   
‘“Commander” again now, is it?’ He shifted a little.  
‘Cullen.’ She corrected herself, making a cutting sound with the with the word and her tongue. It was euphoric to hear her say his first name now. She had never used his name when conversing with him or about him. It was a connection, a display of the intimate knowledge that they now had of each other. He wanted her to keep saying it to him again and again. “Commander” has its uses of course. He knew that it would be only a matter of time before he was making her say it again, just when she had got comfortable with “Cullen”.  
After they had spent a while talking quietly with each other, both naked, both still slightly in awe of what had happened between them, they eventually dressed, helping one another with various garments.  
‘So sweet, really.’ She had said to him as he buttoned the neck of her dress robes from behind. He had pushed her away gently and she had snickered at him, moving back and pressing herself hard into his crotch, sliding her hands up and feeling his face and neck from behind her.  
Cullen had looked up to see them both reflected in the mirror opposite.  
‘Do we like each other now?’ He heard himself say, but the view of them both had clouded his mind so, combined with her pressing into him, coaxing him solid again.   
She looked back at him in the mirror. ‘Depends if that’s what you want. I can keep on hating you if you prefer?’ she smiled. He grinned into her neck, keeping their eyes locked through the reflection.  
‘Lets just see what happens, shall we?’


End file.
